Computing

Dark-skinned, flute playing Krishna
Begs for a kiss to Radha.
Feeling shy, she replies,
'If you promise to remain faithful,
I shall allow you to taste my lips,
But you are as black as a cloud,
I may become black by your touch'.

Krishna, full of guiles, persuades thus:
'If you become black by my touch,
I shall be turned snow white like you.
But there is a way out again and again,
We meet again, the color will interchange,
My will be mine, your will be yours'.